


Visions

by todisturbtheuniverse



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Hallucinations, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todisturbtheuniverse/pseuds/todisturbtheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After what might—probably—no, definitely, absolutely, yes—qualifies as the best sex of her life, Shepard hallucinates.</p>
<p>Prompted by clothtunics on Tumblr: Does your headcanon Shep have sex with Thane and does she start tripping balls during the experience?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visions

After what might—probably—no, definitely, absolutely, yes—qualifies as the best sex of her life, Shepard hallucinates.

It started about halfway through, actually, and it wasn’t the brief kaleidoscope effect she’d already experienced in those swift, stolen kisses. No—if she opened her eyes, the world would spin, and she would be thrown off, so she kept them closed. Thane helped with that, because honestly, the way he moved in her, over her—how could she keep her eyes open? She was so drowned in sensation that even without the whirlwind of imaginary images around her, visual stimulus would have been too much.

But after, she opens her eyes, and she  _sees_.

She’s glad Mordin prepared her. Glad that the beacon and the Cipher had already tested her ability in this arena, two years—so long—ago. She can watch the neon-spotted varren calmly from the bed, not worrying when the lips pull back to snarl at her, because no sound comes out. That wasn’t part of the package, apparently. Or maybe there just wasn’t quite enough oral contact.

She smirks to herself. They could fix that.

Thane’s nails scratch gently against her scalp, untangling her hair. “What do you see?” he asks. If she’s not mistaken, there’s a hint of drowsiness in his voice—the first she’s ever heard there, like he has succumbed to some vague peace at last.

The varren lopes away to vanish behind a boulder. The desert stretches out around them, cracked and blistered. A lizard suns itself on the rock, but the sky is black above them, the stars cold and bright. In the distance, the sea breaks against a jagged shore.

"The desert," she tells him. "It’s incredible."

He hums, deep in his chest. The vibration makes her eyes lid, tugs her closer to sleep. She hooks a leg around his, kicking halfheartedly at tangled sheets, and he hums again like it pleases him.

"You’re very calm," he comments.

"For someone who might die in a few hours, or for someone who’s tripping balls?"

He pauses, chuckles. The sound is always short and soft with him; she cherishes every note. “Both,” he tells her, his lips forming the word into her hair. “You possess remarkable strength of mind, siha. It’s…” He clears his throat. “Admirable.”

"Is that all?" she asks, propping herself up on one elbow, pretending to be hurt.

He presses his answer into her lips, cradling her head in one gentle hand. “No,” he says with a smile, when she’s pleasantly light headed again and the vision has brightened all around her. “Tell me what you see.”

She shares the sight with him: the scrub brush rising out of the cracks in the land, the dust devil spinning lazily in the distance, the craggy mountains behind them, the foaming sea before them.

"Too bad this doesn’t come with smell," she muses. "I always loved the smell of desert on Earth. Don’t know exactly what it was—maybe the sage brush, or something in the dirt itself."

"You’re due for some shore leave," he reminds her.

"Mmm," she agrees, half-asleep. The desert has begun to dim. She curls close to him, warm and safe, his arm around her shoulders, holding her to his chest—his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. "You too."

He chuckles again and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, siha. The desert will wait.”


End file.
